At one time, the people of Hawai‘i nei used leaves of mai‘a (banana), hala (pandanus) and kī (cordyline) to clothe themselves. At this time, a man named Maikoha lived in Nu‘uanu Valley at Pu‘iwa, beside the waters of a stream. Maikoha had two daughters, Lauhuiki and La‘ahana who were hard working and obedient.
The three lived for many years, planting and farming beside the stream, catching river shrimps to eat with their vegetables, and trading with the neighbors when they wanted fish from the sea.
Eventually Maikoha became old and knew he would soon die. He told his daughters to bury him beside the stream, and that soon after his burial a plant would grow from his body, and this plant would be useful to them.
The young women followed his instructions, and soon a plant did grow. Their father came to them in dreams and taught them to strip the bark and pound it into large sheets, which could be fashioned conveniently into clothing and coverings. They learned to take the sap of plants and make beautifully colored dyes to decorate this new kind of garment.
This is a lei for the Holy Sovereigns Two foremost of the world May your sacred heavenly kapu be eternal Your lei is the anguish of the people
The jewels of Heavenly Emma were transformed A hospital was built Life was restored for the flowers of the land By the acumen of the king
Your fame is much discussed Even from the mouths of children And the teachers of this land A love unmatched on these shores
It is right you are transformed The people of distant lands heard About the many good deeds Of your humble souls
And what of us, the people of the land What work for this day Learn steadfastly, harvest the healing herbs Heal the wounds of the land
In honor of the Holy Sovereigns
Though their lives were filled with personal sorrow, the Hawaiian King and Queen strove always to do their best for their people.
This mele is based on He Lei Keia no ʻ Ema, one of the lei songs written for Emma Kalanikaumakaʻamano Kaleleonālani Naʻ ea Rooke. I wanted to retain much of the feel of the songwriting of her era, and for those who know the mele, bring it back so that they can see that imagery, as well as my own. Lines were selected from throughout the original mele to act as the haku of this lei, with new verses braided in.
The first verse takes its first line from the original, but is dedicated to both Emma and Alexander ʻ Iolani Liholiho. The verse references the attention that Hawaiʻ i was receiving on the world stage, and the difficulty of retaining sovereignty. The difficulties of the people were taken to heart by the royal couple.
The second verse references the diligence with which ʻ Ema and ʻ Iolani worked to create hospitals and health care for the people of Hawaiʻ i. When the missionary-influenced legislature refused to work to create health care, the Queen sold her personal jewelry, and called on her friends to do the same. The King worked with local business people to fundraise. Through their personal networks, they raised the funds to create what is now the Queen’s Health Care System.
The third verse honors the royal couple as strong proponents of education. At his funeral, some 800 students and teachers processed to the funeral to offer ʻ Iolani their aloha.
The second to the last verse is almost the same as the second to the last in He Lei Kēia no ʻ Ema. Here, I use it to reference the honoring of them in the liturgical calendar of the Anglican and Episcopal communions as the Holy Sovereigns. They are heard of in distant lands, wherever the Anglican and Episcopal calendars are observed.
As the last verse of the original mele called for people to rally to support and vote for ʻ Emalani, to continue her work, the last verse of this mele calls us to rally and carry on their work of education and healing.
Even after the death of their son, little Prince Albert Edward Kauikeaouli Kaleiopapa a Kamehameha and then the November 30, 1863 death of her husband, ʻ Emalani remained dedicated to her people, taking a personal and active interest in healthcare and education.
In 1865, on the advice of her physician, ʻ Emalani voyaged from Hawaiʻ i to improve her health and in support of the Anglican church in Hawaiʻ i, which she and her husband had been instrumental in formally establishing in the islands.
She traveled first to England, visited London, and then spent the winter at Hyères in the French Rivera. From there she went to Northern Italy and Southern Germany, and then to Paris. She returned to London in June 1866, and then went sightseeing in Ireland before sailing for New York and then traveling on to San Francisco.
ʻ Emalani became an especial friend of Queen Victoria. The two women had much in common. Both were of island kingdoms. Both had lost sons. Both were widowed. They already had exchanged letters for some time and at last them met on September 9, 1865. In November, ʻ Emalani spent a night at Windsor Castle.
Queen Victoria recorded in her journal on the afternoon of September 9, 1865:
After luncheon I received Queen Emma, the widowed Queen of the Sandwich Islands or Hawaii. Met her in the Corridor & nothing could be nicer or more dignified than her manner. She is dark, but not more so than an Indian, with fine features & splendid soft eyes. She was dressed in just the same widow’s weeds as I wear. I took her into the White Drawing room, where I asked to sit down next to me on the sofa. She was moved when I spoke to her of her great misfortune in losing her only child. She was very discreet & would only remain a few minutes. She presented her lady, Mrs. Hoopile whose husband is her Chaplain, both being Hawaiians….
Feature photo credit: Island of Hawaii Visitors Bureau (IHVB) / Tyler Schmitt
Often found inhabiting lists of the top beaches in Hawaiʻ i, Kaunaʻ oa [kah-oo-nah OH-ah] is probably one of the closest beaches to the mental image of sparkling turquoise water gently laving the shore of a white sand tropical paradise. It is gorgeous.
Because the Mauna Kea Beach Hotel was built on its edge, some people call it Mauna Kea Beach. Say “MAH-oo-nuh KEH-ah,” NOT “mana kay-uh” or “mana kee-uh.” Mauna translates to English as “mountain.” Mana translates as “supernatural power,” among other things. Kea translates as “white,” at least for the short version I’m going to post here. Keep an eye out for a post on our beloved mountain!
The correct name for the site, however, is “Kaunaʻ oa,” and so that is what we shall use here.
Kaunaʻ oa Beach probably is named for the kaunaʻ oa shellfish (Vermetidae or tubeworms), and the native dodder (Cuscuta sandwichiana). In my lifetime, the shellfish as been more commonly found there than the dodder, as few native Hawaiian plants remain in the area. It is possible that prior to development both the shellfish and the dodder were abundant there.
Growing up, we were taught that a cut from the kaunaʻ oa kai (“ocean kaunaʻ oa,” the shellfish) was terribly poisonous. You often will find these coiled shells firmly attached to rocks near the shore. Running about barefoot, I once stepped on one which punched a hole in my foot, removing a plug and leaving behind a terrible infection which required a long course of antibiotics. Sharp as razors, those critters!
The kaunaʻ oa kahakai (“shoreline kaunaʻ oa,” the dodder) is a beloved lei plant. Its waxy sherbet-orange tendrils are twisted in the wili, hili, or hilo styles of lei. It also is a traditional medicinal plant.
Knowing the correct names of places tells us a lot about them. Names can contain history, knowledge of the environment, and the importance of an area to those who came before us. So, this beach may once have been abundant with kaunaʻ oa of one or both kinds. Was it possibly an important place for harvesting the medicine? Does the kaunaʻ oa kai have some medicinal property we have forgotten about? So many questions to explore!
In traditional Hawaiian poetry, of which the Kumulipo is one of the most well-known examples, in one section paired couplets explore the relationship of land life and sea life. Hawaiian taxonomy is not based in a “vertical” hierarchy as in Linnean taxonomy, but in a “lateral” network of relationships. By observing the behavior of land-based life forms, we can understand sea-based life forms, and vice-versa. And so Hawaiian understanding looks at the relationship between the kaunaʻ oa kahakai and the kaunaʻ oa o ke kai – the land forms and the sea forms of kaunaʻ oa.
Both the land and sea forms have curling tendrils and can form clustered communities in their habitats. Both provide habitat for other species. Both grow near the kahakai – the edge of the sea. Our ancestors had a deep relationship with their environment developed over generations of careful observation. It behooves us to preserve and reclaim their knowledge and wisdom!
Students of Kamehameha Schools created this animation of the opening lines of the Kumulipo.
The hotel opened in 1965. Rockefeller’s original concept was a cluster of individual cottages, with no televisions or air-conditioning to interfere with the natural environment of the Kohala Coast. Architects Skidmore Owings Merrill produced a dome-shaped model that was nearly washed out by a tropical storm, so a single building mid-century modern design was refined by lead architect Charles Bassett to take advantage of tropical breezes and ocean views, but added air conditioning. From 1965 until 1995, the hotel operated without guest room televisions, just as Rockefeller intended.
Safety
Use especial care when swimming, snorkeling, or even just relaxing on the shoreline in the winter months, as the waves can be quite high, pounding in the shore break, and there is a strong rip current.
As with all beaches, if you see the tide going way out, exposing more of the beach than the usual low tide, it’s time to head inland. That is a sign of a possible tsunami.
Pronounce it HAH-lay. The park on the shores of Pohoiki is named for the beloved son of its sands, Isaac Kepoʻ okani Hale. The little old house there sheltered generations of his family. The home remains a private residence. Please respect the privacy of the family and stay off of their property.
Isaac Hale Beach Park is named in honor of Private Isaac Kepookani Hale (20 Sept 1928 – 12 July 1951). During the Korean War Hale served in the United States Army’s 19th Infantry Regiment, 24th Infantry Division. He was a recipient of the Medal of Honor for his meritorious service, and of the Purple Heart. He was killed in action north of the 38th parallel on July 12, 1951.
Hale is a Hawaiian surname and is pronounced HAH-leh. According to a family member, the name Hale originally was longer but, like many Hawaiian names, was truncated.
Pohoiki Bay was long a favored surfing and fishing location known for its strong currents, large waves, and boat ramp.
Until the 2018 lower Puna eruption it was a popular snorkeling site. The park had been expanded and modernized in 2006. Lava from the eruption covered much of the coral and safe ocean access. The flow never completely covered the park, and left the lava front a few hundred feet away from the boat ramp. The boat launch is now partially buried under a new black sand beach that extends along Pohoiki Bay and impounds a geothermal pool accessible from the park.
The park is located at the intersection of Pohoiki road and the Kapoho-Kalapana road (Hawaii state route 137).
Making kaʻ ā (thread) and kaula (rope) is an important cultural art that gets little recognition these days. In times past, the art of the kaula was functional, metaphorical, and bound together many aspects of Hawaiian culture.
I originally learned to make kaula from dry lāʻ i, dry leaves of Cordyline fruticosa. It was a handy way to make a temporary rope from an easily-available material. In my childhood, tī was found growing in almost every garden, and the long leaves fell daily and needed to be cleaned up, so they were always handy to make rope from when needed.
Years later, I was working at Puʻ uhonua o Hōnaunau National Historical Park as a cultural demonstrator. Rose Fujimori took me in hand and taught me about traditional Hawaiian cordage.
There are many materials which can be used for making kaula and kaʻ ā. Among them are: lāʻ ī, olonā (touchardia latifolia), niu (Cocos nucifera), ule hala (Pandanus tectorius), ʻ ahuʻ awa (native Hawaiian Carex and Cyperaecea), and hau (Hibiscus tiliaceus). Each type of material has its own strengths and weaknesses.
A while back I signed up for the academia.edu mailing list. They have a lot of really interesting stuff come through. I have not had a lot of time to read much, but I thought I would start sharing the ones I find particularly striking here.
We have recently been seeing the results of ignoring indigenous knowledge in land management practices, and at least California and Australia are starting to explore incorporating indigenous knowledge back in management for fire.
To be truly sustainable, however, we need to move past this (literally) put-out-the-brushfires approach, and incorporate wholistic and sustainable practices. Thus biocultural restoration.
For Hawaiʻ i, this means that “since Kānaka Maoli are an inseparable part of every land and seascape in Hawai‘i, any ecological restoration project has the potential to use a biocultural restoration approach,” according to the paper abstract. “However, most restoration approaches are purely ecological, and for many conservation practitioners a sociocultural understanding of the landscape can seem inaccessible. In this article, we discuss the value of a historical ecology approach (understanding the interaction between people and landscapes over time) for successful restoration and management of biocultural landscapes in Hawai‘i.”
I just realized it has been ages since I did a blog post here, so this book inspired me to get back in the groove. Ka Poʻ e Moʻ o Akua – Hawaiian Reptilian Water Deities by Marie Alohalani Brown needs to be in your reference works.
The preface, list of Hawaiian terms, and bibliography alone make it worth having and reading. Not only will the reader learn so much of value about akua moʻ o, but also the reader will learn about ʻ aumakua and Hawaiian concepts of familial relationships.
Brown has taken an incredibly complex and multi-layered set of concepts and made them accessible for the discerning student of Hawaiian culture/philosophy/religion. And the bibliography! If you love comprehensive citations, you will love this book! Also, it is well indexed.
Chapters are:
Moʻ o Akua and Water
The Moʻ o Akua Form and the Kino Lau Associated with All Moʻ o
Moʻ o-Specific Kino Lau
Kinship and Antagonism between the Moʻ o and Pele Clans
by Leilehua Yuen illustration: watercolor by Leilehua Yuen
The Pleiades, though a tiny constellation, is striking in appearance. It is so noticeable that cultures around the world use it in navigation and to mark the seasons of the year.
The star cluster Pleiades, Πλειάδες in Greek, is known by many different names. In ancient India it was known as क्रृत्तिका Kṛittika. In ancient Arabia, الثريّا al-Ṯurayyā. In English it is called The Seven Sisters, and in Irish, Streoillín. Every culture which can see them has named them in its own language. Astronomers know it as M45 is known, an open star cluster. It contains over a thousand stars that are loosely bound by gravity, but it is visually dominated by a handful of its brightest members. Each group of people who name the cluster use a name which suites the way they relate to it. Hawaiian people gave the cluster several names, depending on whether they were using it for agriculture, navigation, religious rituals, or other purposes.
Huhui – cluster, Huihui – cluster, Huihuiamakaliʻi – the cluster of Makaliʻi, Huihuikōkōamakaliʻikauiluna – the netted cluster of Makaliʻi hung above, Kahuihuiomakali’i – the cluster of Makaliʻi, Kūpuku – clustered thickly, Makaliʻi – little eyes, Nāhiku – the seven, Nāhui – the group, Nāhuihui – the collection, Nāhuihuiomakaliʻi – the collection of Makaliʻi, Nākokoamakaliʻi – the net of Makaliʻi, and other names.
Legends and myths are associated with the names. In the winter, wwe like to tell the story of how ʻIole, the Hawaiian Rat, saved the Hawaiian people from starvation. There were different chiefs named Makaliʻi. One was a great navigator. Another was a great farmer. The one in this story is a bad chief. Selfish and greedy.
Chief Makaliʻi had taxed the people so heavily that they were starving. He had taxed the fish and the fruits, the pigs and the chickens, and even the plants the people needed as seed for the next season. He so selfish that after he taxed them, he put all the food in a net which he hung high in the sky where they could not reach it.
The people were tormented, seeing the food hanging there out of reach. The entire world was angry with Chief Makaliʻi for his selfishness. At last the elementals of the world decided they would withdraw. The wind stayed away. The rain stayed away. Only the sun shone, burning down, even in the winter. It was so dry that even if there were seed plants, they would not be able to grow. The people were starving. There was not enough food for even an ʻiole, a rat.
ʻIole sat in the barren sweet potato fields and thought about this. He decided to go up to the net and get that food! He found a coconut tree and climbed it, and from there was able to grab a rope woven from moonbeams. He climbed the rope to the moon and when he was close enough to the net he chewed a hole in the side.
All of the sweet potatoes, taro, bananas, and other food tumbled back down to earth and the people, and the rats, were saved!
For a full-length version of the story, visit Leilehua’s Kindle Vella page.
One of the mele, songs, that I love is Kuʻu Pua i Paoakalani, written by Liliʻuokalani. The moʻolelo, story, of it that I was taught is this:
On September 4, 1895, the monarch of Hawaiʻi, Lydia Liliʻu Loloku Walania Wewehi Kamakaʻeha, who ruled as Liliʻuokalani, was imprisoned in her own palace. She would be held in a small room there for eight months.
One of her very few companions was Eveline “Kitty” Townsend Wilson, the Queen’s protégé and lady in waiting. Kitty agreed to share her friend and mentor’s imprisonment.
Kitty’s husband was Charles Burnette Wilson, had held various posts in the Kingdom, and struggled to balance loyalty to his sovereign and expediency in the new régime. And so, he must participate in the imprisonment of his Queen.
While imprisoned, Liliʻu was under a news embargo. Her letters were read before being given to her, her windows were painted over, and no newspapers were allowed to be sent her.
Here are the Queen’s own words:
“It was the duty of the guards to search whatever was sent to me before it was delivered into my hands; so the baskets, whether of food, flowers, clothes, or papers, went to them first, and at least at the start were closely examined; yet there were some kindly disposed towards me and not over-critical. Every newspaper, however, had to come through the hands of Mr. Wilson; and if he detected in it anything whatever relating to the government, he would take it away, not permitting me to see it. I used to find great comfort in the bits of newspaper that were wrapped around my bouquets which were brought to me from my own garden at Uluhaimalama.
“These were generally wrapped in the newspapers, foreign and local. . .”
“Flowers from home I unwrapped myself, so as to be sure to save these bits of news which I sought opportunity at intervals to read. There were times when I saw something of such interest that I could not resist the temptation to mention it to my companion, Mrs. Wilson. Then it seems she would faithfully report all that I said to her husband, whose custom it was to call every other day, . . . for the purpose of ascertaining if there was anything required. At such times he would withdraw with his wife to the boudoir, where she would repeat to him what had been said by me. . . By some things she occasionally mentioned, he thought that newspapers had been secretly sent in; but when finally he discovered that they had come as wrapping-paper, it made him very angry, and his poor little wife had to suffer for it, even bursting into tears at his sharp reproaches. For this reason I became quite guarded in what I said to her.”
The person who brought these bouquets to the queen was Johnny, the young son of Kitty and Mr. Wilson. Usually the flowers came from Uluhaimalama, a project the Queen had organized with her friends as something like a community garden. One day, Liliʻu noticed that the bouquet included flowers from her own beloved garden at her home, Paoakalani.
As a gift for Johnny, Liliʻu wrote a song, Kuʻu Pua i Paoakalani, cast in the form of a riddle, asking him to name that special flower among the others.
Well, Hawaiian people love nane and kaona, riddles and layered meanings. And so I was taught that the mele also is a love song for her people – the many beautiful flowers of her islands. The fragrance is the news of her beloved people, and the gentle breeze which brings it is young Johnny.
Liliʻuokalani left legacies in both land and music. Her lands have benefited the Hawaiian people through the Liliuokalani Trust and Queen Liliuokalani Children’s Center. Her music has preserved valuable knowledge and poetry of an important era in Hawaiian history. “To compose,” she once said, “was as natural to me as to breathe.” Hui Hānai was organized in 1969 to assist in carrying out the objectives of the Queen Liliuokalani Children’s Center and to perpetuate the memory of the Queen and her accomplishments. In 1973, it decided that the most meaningful contribution it could make would be to collect and publish the Queens Song’s, and a Songbook Committee authorized by the Hui Hānai Council compiled The Queen’s Songbook with lyrics, musical scores, and stories of mele written by Liliʻu and of mele associated with her.
To gain wider perspective and further develop my art, I belong to a number of forums, including some on cultural inclusivity and anti-racism. Among the topics we have recently been discussing is describing eyes. “Almond eyed” is so . . . . dated? Overused? Problematic? Look at an almond. Really look. Do you know anyone with eyes that look like that?
Anyway, I shared this anecdote about an event that happened a few years ago which inspired me to reexamine how I tell my stories:
In one of the stories, the Chief Makaliʻi has tiny squinting eyes because he is evil and always squinting around looking for things to tax. Because I am thinking of the Hawaiian imagery while telling the story, I don’t really “think the story” in English, even though I tell it in English.
The name “Makaliʻi” can be translated several ways: “Eyes of the Chief” “Tiny Eyes” “Pleiades”
For this particular story, I use “Tiny Eyes” and “Pleiades” in a pun, somewhat the way the name of Xiaoping (小平) became Xiǎo Píngzi (小瓶子).
A few years ago, I was telling it and there was the cutest chubby-cheeked Chinese girl in the audience, and at the end of the story, I realized by the look on her face that she was really hurt by the description.
I cannot change the name of the chief, or the meaning of the name, because those are traditional in this story. So, I have changed the description to, “His people called him Chief Tiny Eyes for his habit of making his eyes hard and seeing the smallest thing to tax.”
Because we do a lot of interactions during the story, I have the children relax their faces and “look at something with love,” and then harden their faces and “look at something with jealousy.” Then we go back to our relaxed faces and listen to the story with love.
So, I am going through all of the stories I learned from my kūpuna (elders) and learning new ways to tell them.